


One Week

by Pidonyx



Category: Ghostbusters (2016), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anyways..., F/F, I cried while writing this, I'm really sorry, Oh god, no really bad language in this one HAHAHA...um, thats really pathetic holy crap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7860385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pidonyx/pseuds/Pidonyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This was a rather disturbing development."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something isn't right when Erin comes in to work one morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Week

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I'm here. I cannot believe I'm posting more but I guess if you don't like it you don't have to read it so--I'm assuming you want to be here. Anyways: This was beta'd but again, autocorrect and human errors can do wonders at screwing something up. Please let me know if anything is unclear, missing, unintentionally grammatically incorrect, or needs to be edited. Thank you for your support. ;)

Something was off this morning. Something Erin couldn't quite put her finger on buzzed uncomfortably in the air when she walked into the firehouse. Striding to her desk, she draped her jacket over the back of her chair and set her purse on the seat. Turning back around, she surveyed the rest of the first floor with her arms crossed, trying to figure out what was causing the feeling prodding the back of her mind. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, even after poking around Kevin's desk, Erin took her investigation upstairs.

The uncomfortable feeling intensified as she ascended each step. When she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped on the threshold and looked around. Once again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen area. Holtzmann's morning mix of eighties songs played, and Holtzmann herself sat at her workbench, adjusting one of the proton packs quickly and quietly. 

Wait.

Erin looked back over at Holtzmann. The blonde engineer was sitting on a stool with both feet on the ground. Working with steady hands through an open panel on the proton pack. Not propping a foot on the support beams. Not twirling on the spinning stool. Not grooving to the music--which, Erin noticed, was substantially quieter than usual. She hadn't even known Holtzmann was in the building with the lack of synthesized instruments blaring from the second floor.

Erin approached Holtz's workspace, rapping her knuckles on the wooden surface when Holtzmann failed to notice her.

Holtz jumped a foot at the knock, dropping her screwdriver next to the mass of wires protruding from her project. She turned quickly, and upon seeing who it was, huffed a small breath and pushed her goggles up into her hair, offering a bright smile. "Morning, Gilbert."

"Good morning, Holtz." Erin smiled, too, but she faltered at the still-pressing feeling of abnormality, which was starting to make her feel slightly ill. "Everything...okay?"

Erin thought she saw Holtzmann's eyes widen for a fraction of a second before Holtz flashed her trademark smirk and gave an eye roll. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Erin placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side. "Well, your music is at a volume normal people can stand at close proximity, for one thing. You're also sitting still, which is completely unheard of for you. Not to mention your eye bags are horrendous. Did you sleep at all last night?"

Holtz pushed a hand into her mop of curls, rubbing at her eyes with the other. "I'm fine, Erin. Just got a bit of a headache this morning. And yeah, I did sleep last night, if you count falling into one of the firehouse spare beds for two hours as a full night's sleep." Holtz punctuated this last sentence with a tired-sounding laugh. She reached for her coffee cup, taking a gulp. Seemingly more energized, Holtzmann turned back to the abandoned proton pack. "I'm fine."

Erin gave a disbelieving hum, but knowing Holtzmann, she let the subject go. They could discuss Holtz's poor self-care another time. "Alright, well, I'm going back downstairs. Abby texted me to let everyone know she'll be in late today. Do you know when Patty will be here?"

Erin definitely saw Holtzmann stiffen this time, but her voice was casual--if not carefully so--when she shrugged and muttered, "Beats me."

Erin waited for a couple seconds before she realized Holtz wasn't going to be more helpful than that. She didn't know what to say to this bizarre reaction, so she said something about getting pizza for lunch, getting Holtz's mumbled agreement before scurrying down the stairs.

Patty came in less than an hour later--fifteen minutes after Kevin--throwing Erin a low "good morning" before walking with clipped steps up to the second story. Erin paused in writing on one of the whiteboards, straining her ears for any kind of noise from upstairs. Dead silence met her.

This was a rather disturbing development. "Kevin," Erin said, leaning around the corner. 

Kevin was sitting lounged back in his chair, a copy of People in one hand and a breakfast burrito in the other. He perked up in a way similar to a puppy when its name is called, almost falling out of his chair in his haste to straighten in his seat. "Yes, boss?"

"Kevin," Erin said again, stepping away from the whiteboard and throwing a worried glance in the direction of the stairs. "I know you haven't seen Holtzmann this morning, but do you think there was anything strange about Patty's behavior just now?"

Kevin looked down at the floor for a minute, clearly thinking hard. Finally, he looked up. "No," he said cheerfully. "Why?"

Erin smiled awkwardly. "No reason, Kevin. Thank you for your input." She stepped back around the corner, mind buzzing from more than just the ominous tension that hung heavy in the firehouse. She should have known better than to trust Kevin, but she did want a second opinion on the situation. It was possible she was misreading it. She would have to wait for Abby to show up, and since she had no other choice, Erin went back to her work. 

It was hard to get anything done when you're worrying about your friends' relationship, so Erin did her best to push it from her mind. She succeeded. So well, in fact, that by the time Abby came in at about eleven thirty, she had forgotten about the events of the morning and thus only stuck her head around the corner for two seconds to greet Abby before going back to work.

The worry came crashing back when the pizza arrived and the Ghostbusters gathered in the kitchen for lunch.

Holtzmann was keeping up a good façade, laughing, talking, bantering, just like how she would normally act. However, every time she glanced in Patty's direction, she would visibly falter, and she would stumble over the rest of the sentence. This was punctuated by her shoving another enormous bite into her mouth and resetting the act. Patty ate her pizza in a stony silence, not obviously indicating something was wrong, but still giving off the vibe, and when she finished her first slice she excused herself, carried her plate to the sink and left the table. Not long after, Holtzmann shoved the last bite of her single slice of pizza down her throat with a look of relief on her face and jumped to her feet like the seat had burned her. She vanished back to her corner of the firehouse, out the door like a shot. Soon enough, the eighties tunes resumed, still at the quiet volume from that morning.

Abby, who had been observing the entire awkward meal with a growing expression of confusion and worry, turned to Erin as soon as Holtz had left. "What was that about?" She said softly, gesturing with her thumb in the direction of the kitchen door. 

Erin took a sip of her water, shrugging. "I have no idea," she said, feeling her own worry coiling like a snake in the pit of her stomach. She cupped her glass in both hands, staring into it. "I got here this morning and it was like this. Holtz was acting twitchy and trying to cover it up, but she almost exploded when I asked if she knew when Patty was getting here. Patty walked in and has been completely ignoring Holtz for the past five hours."

Abby clicked her tongue with a sharp pop, and crossed her arms in front of her on the table.

Erin looked up. "Abby, what can we do?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"This isn't our business. We can't intervene. They'll work it out eventually."

*

Erin could tell Abby was regretting not mentioning the issue when a week had gone by, the prickling wrongness in the air intensifying every day until it was enough to suffocate a person. Every day the Ghostbusters went about as if it was business as usual, going out on calls and doing work around the firehouse. Busts took way longer because the communication between two of the team members was nonexistent. Working in the firehouse was like the exact moment before a thunderstorm prolonged, all choking thickness and crackling anticipation dragging on for eternity. Every day, Patty got grimmer and grimmer. Erin thought she might turn to actual stone in her chair. Holtz unraveled a little more each day; she wasn't sleeping and her caffeine intake was at a shocking high. She had stopped pretending she was fine in favor of sitting at her workbench constantly, deftly distracting herself with work despite her obvious exhaustion.

Thursday afternoon a cacophony of screaming came from the second floor, and while Abby and Erin held hope that it would be the final resolution to the tension, it ended three minutes later with Patty storming down the stairs and out the door, throwing on her peacoat as she went. Abby and Erin both pretended not to hear the single quiet sob that echoed in the silent firehouse before being abruptly cut off. The clanging noises of Holtz working started up with violent gusto--sounding more like Holtz was banging a wrench against a pipe repeatedly than making actual progress--and at last, Abby and Erin looked at each other, at the end of their rope.

*

"I'm going to lose my mind."

Abby paced across the concrete floor, a hand to her head. "I mean it, Erin, I feel like I'm THIS close to snapping and going completely and totally unhinged."

It wasn't terribly late, maybe eight o'clock or so, but Patty had been leaving at exactly five o'clock every evening since the trouble had started, and Holtzmann had left at seven, muttering something about wanting some fresh air.

Erin was slumped against one of the columns, eyes closed, feeling drained herself by the emotional strain of the past week. She cracked a lid as Abby paced back across the floor. "We need to do something or else we're both going to go crazy."

"Tomorrow I'm locking them in a room. They are not coming out until they work it out. Either that or I'm going to punch one of them in the face." 

A joke about Patty destroying Abby if she so much as hurt a hair on Holtzmann's head came easily to Erin's tongue, but she swallowed it. She wasn't sure if Patty and Holtzmann themselves could survive this, much less their relationship. Now was absolutely not the time to be making jokes.

"Is there an option that doesn't risk the destruction of their relationship?" Erin asked, pushing herself into a slightly more comfortable position.

Abby gave her the most deadpan look Erin had ever received. "At this point I think NOT doing anything is more of a risk."

The door slammed against the wall as it flew open, silencing their conversation. Holtzmann skittered through it and up the stairs without speaking or making eye contact.

Erin sighed and massaged her temples. "Alright. Fine. Let's do it. Before everyone goes completely off their rocker."

*

Friday morning dawned pale and soft, in stark contrast with the heavy misery that had hung over the firehouse for a week.

Erin and Abby got to the firehouse early, needing to be there before Patty came in at the dot of seven. Holtz still banged away upstairs when they arrived, having clearly worked through the night for the eighth day in a row. Erin went to work at her desk and Abby made coffee. At six-fifty, they left what they were doing and stood to wait.

As soon as Patty walked in the door, Abby and Erin had her by the wrists. They dragged her up the stairs, into one of the spare rooms. Patty just stared at them in confusion while they pulled her, but as soon as they stopped moving, she opened her mouth to speak. However, Abby was already out the door again, returning a few seconds later with Holtzmann practically draped over her shoulders. Patty's expression went from slightly bemused and baffled to closed-off in a split second, but there was also a touch of something like concern that softened her features slightly. 

Abby let go of Holtzmann, who swayed for a few seconds before finding her own balance. Clearly the caffeine was starting to lose effectiveness. Adrenaline could only carry one so far. The fact that she was still awake after a week was astounding, and surely a feat only Holtzmann could have pulled off.

Abby stepped back to stand next to Erin. She put her hands on her hips and announced in a loud voice that startled everyone, "I AM LOSING MY DAMN MIND."

Erin crossed her arms. With a slightly more sympathetic tone, she said, "We didn't want to have to do this."

By this point, Patty at least was figuring out what exactly they were doing. She strode forward, but Erin and Abby ducked out the door and slammed it, turning the lock from the outside.

Sighing in relief, they crouched at a small gap between the doorjamb and door to watch.

Though visibility was somewhat poor, the chunk of door missing--taken out by one of Holtz's experiments before everyone else had insisted that just because the lab space was bigger did not mean she could shoot things INSIDE--was pretty big and in a convenient spot where they could see most of the room, including the bed and the window, and the two people trapped inside. 

Patty leant against a wall, slowly sliding down into a seated position on the floor, resigned to their fate. She let out a huff of breath.

Holtzmann sat down--or rather, collapsed backwards--onto the bed. She immediately compacted in on herself, tucking her legs up to her nose and seemingly trying to take up as little space as possible.

It was so silent you could've heard a pin drop, though one might think the horrible, horrible thickness of the air would muffle the sound a bit were someone to actually try it. Inside the room, Holtzmann and Patty sat as still as statues, the only indication of life the nearly inaudible sound of breathing. 

Nobody moved. Time seemed to stand still. For a very long time, it lasted like this. 

An hour later, clearly, Holtzmann had had enough. Whether it was from the stress of the past week, the near complete lack of sleep, the frustration that had been building up over the hours spent ignoring each other, or likely a combination of all three, Holtz broke. In a fashion that was completely out-of-character, Holtzmann took in a deep breath and burst into hysterical sobs. Patty's emotionless expression went immediately to worry. In a blink, she was across the room and lifting Holtzmann into her arms. 

Holtzmann cried harder at the touch, but she curled towards it. She sobbed into Patty's shoulder until she could get words out between gasps of air and more tears running down her face.

"I--I'm so sorr--sorry, I'm s-so s-stupid, it was all m-m-my f-fault, I--" Patty shushed her, holding her tighter. 

Tears of her own were running down her face. "Please don't cry, baby. It's okay. It's okay. It was my fault too. Okay? Are you listening?" 

Holtzmann nodded her head from where her face was pressed into Patty's sweater.

For another long while, they sat there: Holtz wrapped around Patty like a koala, still crying quietly and hiccuping now and then, and Patty holding Holtz as tightly against her as possible, tears dripping off her chin. 

Eventually Holtz sighed shakily, and lifted her head slightly. Her voice cracked as she spoke. "I c-can't believe we let it go on this long." The last word wobbled and she set her head back in the crook of Patty's neck.

Patty gave a sort of sad laugh. "We've been stupid, haven't we, Holtzy?"

 

Holtzmann's fingers clenched in the fabric of Patty's shirt, knuckles going visibly white even from Erin and Abby's vantage point at the door. "I think I almost went insane," she whispered. "I didn't want everything to fall apart, and-and I didn't know what to say to fix anything, I've never cared so much and I was so convinced I was going to lose everything--". Her voice cracked again on the last few words, and she sounded like she was going to cry again.

"Well. I'm not going to let it. Okay?" Patty whispered into Holtz's ear. "We're alright. I'm not going anywhere."

"You're too perfect, Patty," Holtz mumbled, playing with one of Patty's earrings. Another shaky breath. "I love you."

Patty's eyes welled with tears again, and she held Holtz impossibly tighter. "I love you too, baby."

Holtz pressed her face into Patty's shoulder more firmly.

There's a space of silence where Patty just rocks Holtz gently, far happier and peaceful than the first. Eventually, Holtz lifted her head, placing her chin where her face had been. "PattyCakes," she mumbled, and Patty's face split with a radiant grin at the nickname. "Would you mind if I go to sleep for a bit? I've been awake for what feels like a week." 

"Holtzy, it HAS been a week," Patty said, but she smiled widely and let Holtz wiggle under the covers on the spare bed. Holtzmann's delighted smile was unrivaled as Patty lay down next to her, and she reached up to pull Patty's arm around her.

Erin and Abby stood up quietly and crept back down the hall, but not before silently unlocking the door. A shared glance between them was full of relief and quiet happiness. Everything would be back to normal.


End file.
